


A Quotidian Christmas

by scarletalphabet



Category: NCIS
Genre: Christmas, Community: nfacommunity, F/M, Gen, Pre-Relationship, Secret Santa, Sign Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 09:51:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3130208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletalphabet/pseuds/scarletalphabet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abby would never have imagined running into Gibbs and the team in a middle school gymnasium, much less it inspiring her to take another look at their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Quotidian Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Written for iheartgibbs for NFA's SeSa 2014. Takes place in an ambiguous time period so if you're not current on the show you can read without fear.

“Ahem,” Abby called, clearing her throat. She tapped the half-eaten candy cane in her right hand against the counter. “I officially call this micro gift swap to order.” She looked around, mirroring Gibbs's slightly raised eyebrow with one of her own. Tony's finger was tapping on the bow of the gift in front of him with barely restrained excitement. McGee met Abby's gaze with a pleased smile. “Though we are missing one of our number—”

“Lucky,” Tony grumbled, gruffness stilling the excitement running through his fingers. “Not having to be here over Christmas.”

“Hey, you could have volunteered to go out to Ft. Leavenworth,” Gibbs pointed out. “It's not exactly a vacation.”

“Yeah, and with the storm system moving across the country her chances of getting out of the Midwest with no flight cancellations are slim to none,” McGee added.

“Anyhow,” Abby continued, trying to imbue her voice with the necessary force to wrangle the conversation back on track. “As I was saying, with Christmas coming up next week and you all on call, I figured a moment to reflect and share our appreciation of each other was in order. While it's really more of a white elephant exchange than a Secret Santa, if I remember correctly we all agreed to the no swapping rule for more of a challenge.” She turned to Tony, feeling her excited smile threatening to break out in to a full-on grin. “Drum roll please?”

Tony slapped the table once, letting the heavy reverberation linger in the room. Just before the final note dissolved, he began to beat out a steady rhythm, tapping his fingers on the table's edge for a higher sound against the bang of his palms on the table's surface. A gleam of inspiration flashed across his face as he reached out for McGee's pen, clinking it against his coffee mug like a cymbal. His pace grew steadily faster until he finally cut off with one last resounding boom.

“Or a drum solo,” Abby conceded. “That works too.” She reached into the pocket of her hooded vest and pulled out a black beanie. “Though I'm sure there's an app for that, I took the liberty of writing down everybody's names already. Just give it a bit of a shake and draw the name of your recipient. If you get your own name we'll restart since there are so few of us.” She passed the hat off to McGee.

“Gibbs,” he read with a satisfied nod, much to Abby's surprise. She had personally found it most difficult to get something that would work for Tony as well as it would for the other two, but she would have thought that McGee and Tony would have had the most trouble with finding something that would work for Gibbs.

Tony took the hat from McGee's hand and drew a name. “McGrinch!” he declared.

McGee rolled his eyes in exasperation, refusing to dignify that attempt with a response. 

Abby gestured to Tony to pass the hat along to Gibbs. “Miss Scuito,” he read, his voice booming out with an unusually jolly tone. 

Abby took the hat back and dumped the last piece of paper out of it. “Guess you're the lucky winner, Tony!” she said as she turned to face him, bouncing with excitement. While the gift she got would work for any of the guys, Tony would particularly appreciate it. She pulled out a slim box from her vest pocket and handed it over to Tony as everyone else followed suit. “So I guess we can all unwrap them at once?” she suggested, trying not to sound too much like a little kid on Christmas morning. The moment of self-reproach quickly passed, replaced by the understanding that her eagerness came from a desire to see other people happy, especially people that she considered family. 

The tinny sound of Gibbs's cellphone stopped any further introspection. “Gibbs,” he stated, all business once more. Several seconds passed as the person on the other end spoke.

“Of course,” Gibbs replied. “Right away.” He hung up and stood up, grabbing the gift before him. “Hate to cut this short, but duty calls.” He looked at Tony and McGee, who were scrambling to gather their things. “We're out of here in five.”

Abby nodded. It certainly wasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last. “See you later,” she called after them.

“Doubtful,” Gibbs called back. “It sounds like this might take a while.”

Abby muttered a quick prayer for whoever was involved. Hearing the phrase “take a while” in conjunction with a case was never a good sign. While she wasn't so naïve as to think that all crime stopped around Christmas or that complete peace was possible, if peace could be restored to at least one more family this Christmas then the world would seem a little brighter.

*******

Abby slipped into the school gymnasium, taking a program from an usher with a smile and a nod. She stopped just inside the entrance and scanned the room. “Now where did she say they'd be sitting?” she muttered.

“Abby!” a shrill voice called from the middle of the room. 

“Excuse me,” Abby said, verbally prodding the man in front of her to let her pass. She waded through the gathering sea of people to an empty chair. “Mrs. Matthews!” she exclaimed, reaching over to hug the woman next to her. “Thanks for saving me a seat. I didn't expect it to be this packed already.”

“It's Erin, Abby,” Erin Matthews replied with a shake of her head, gesturing for Abby to have a seat. “How many times do I have to remind you now. We're neighbors.”

“Erin,” Abby acknowledged, holding up her hands in defeat. “I'm used to seeing you with your kids.”

“If James and Eddie don't know my name by now then they're even deeper into teenage ignorance than I thought,” Erin replied. The slight curl of amusement at the corners of her mouth showed that she wasn't really serious. Abby had known Erin for years and had seen her bear with love the strain of raising twin boys with her husband serving overseas. 

“How's Brady doing?” Abby asked, nearly hitting the man in front of her in the head as she removed her coat. Early on in her friendship with the Matthews family she'd considered asking the team to look in on Brady a time or two, given his deployment with the Navy, but decided that was a little too Big Brother. Luckily she'd never been in a situation that called for working her NCIS connections on his behalf.

Erin's wry smile turned bright. “He's due home in the new year, and bucking for a promotion” she proclaimed, her voice tinged with equal parts pride and relief. “It would be a desk job, but it would mean more time with the boys and a chance to oversee technological development.” She shrugged, the gesture of helplessness seeming well-practiced on her shoulders. “'Technological development' is what they're calling it anyways. I do know that he's looking forward to being home more, so you take what you can get.”

Abby squeezed Erin's hand, willing Erin to feel her support through the gesture. She understood the secrecy about as well as a civilian could and knew it wasn't easy to handle. “I know—” Abby's hands flew up to her ears as the screech of feedback pierced the chatter, snapping her gaze towards the stage where a short man was adjusting a microphone.

“Sorry about that folks,” he said. He adjusted his glasses and peered out at the audience. “I'm glad to see so many familiar faces here, as well as a good many that I don't know yet. I'm Mr. Starks, the Assistant Principal here at Jefferson Middle School. Some of the students might claim that I'm not usually one for brevity, but tonight is not about me. The students participating tonight have been working hard, so with no further ado, let the Winter Showcase begin!” 

Eager applause scattered around the room as the velvet curtain parted to the sounds of an a cappella Christmas.

While Abby knew that teenagers were capable of a lot more than some adults gave them credit for, the show was surprisingly enjoyable. James had shone in his one-man show of A Reduced Christmas Carol, eliciting a fair amount of laughter for a five minute performance. “You really did well with him,” Erin whispered to Abby when the applause for his performance had died down. “I can't thank you enough.”

Abby shook her head, brushing off the compliment. “He did all the hard work,” she insisted. “I was just his sounding board.” 

A loud crash sounded from the entrance to the gym as a man burst in, knocking the doors against the wall. He dashed up the aisle, slowed by a limp that had his right foot stumping along in a disjointed stride. His eyes darted from side to side, though they didn't seem to take anything in. There was a moment of frozen silence, punctuated by the bleat of a tuba as the jazz band stopped playing, before a cacophony of sounds erupted. Parents shrieked for their children, teachers shrieked for security, and a few quick thinkers whipped out their cell phones to call police. 

Abby stood up, feeling compelled to act though she was as unarmed as the man appeared to be. Before she'd taken a single step the doors burst open again. “NCIS!” Tony's voice called. 

“Stop!” shouted McGee, running up the aisle after them. His words refroze the audience, but had no effect on the man now aiming for the stairs to the stage.

“Clear a path!” Gibbs barked, sparing a glance at the gathering chaos but not spotting Abby. None of the team had their guns drawn, which made Abby relax just a bit. They wouldn't have holstered them solely on account of the children if the man was enough of a threat.

The man stood on the stage, blinking out at the audience as if blinded by the lights. He was halfway through a stumble downstage when Tony jumped, knocking him to the ground. The reverberation of his head hitting the stage was picked up by one of the mics, booming out ever louder for the silence of the room. 

The room burst into action once more, teachers and staff rushing up to the stage. Abby was not far behind them, thankful that she hadn't gone with the platform boots she'd considered earlier in the evening. In their haste no one thought to bar Abby's unfamiliar face from climbing the stairs to the stage. “Gibbs!” she called, once it was clear that his attention could be safely called away. 

“Abby?” Gibbs replied, looking up through the barricade of teachers that blocked off the audience from view. He blinked, unable to reconcile her presence with his case. “What are you doing here?”

“Miss Sciuto helped me with my act,” James Matthews called from just offstage, pulling himself up to every inch of his just barely five-foot height. He glared at Gibbs, daring him to say more. 

Abby smiled, relaxed now that she could see up close that the man (suspect?) was subdued. “It's alright, James,” she told him. “Agent Gibbs is my boss. NCIS.”

“Oh,” James said, his stern expression immediately turning contrite. His defiant posture relaxed into respectful attentiveness. “Sorry, sir.”

Gibbs arched one questioning eyebrow at Abby, tilting his head towards James.

“Neighbor,” she mouthed. “Navy dad.”

Assistant Principal Starks' agitated fidgeting had calmed a touch when he heard “NCIS.” “I have to assume that the students are safe since you're sitting here gabbing,” he said, his voice still harsh with worry, “Though I would have appreciated a little more mindfulness.”

Gibbs looked back down at the man, subdued under Tony and McGee's watchful eyes. “As safe as any of us can be,” he told Starks. “While I can't go into detail about the case, he's not a criminal. We apprehended the real criminal, but not before he managed to inject this man with some cocktail of who knows what. The handcuffs are just a precaution.”

“Why he wandered in here is anyone's guess,” McGee chimed in with a shrug. “He might have been drawn to the lights and noise, or maybe he's familiar with the school in some way. Regardless, we don't have any reason to think that he was trying to harm anyone here. More of a loose end than anything.”

Their brief conversation covered up the calm approach of local law enforcement and paramedics, who had evidently been alerted to the deescalation of the situation. Gibbs stood up and shook hands with the officer in charge. “Thank you for responding so quickly Officer Lance,” he said, casting a glance down at the officer's name badge as he shifted with practiced ease into a more diplomatic role. Just because they hadn't called on or needed the DC cops for backup didn't mean that there was cause to alienate them. 

“You Navy boys had it all wrapped up before we even got here,” Officer Lance pointed out with a snort. 

Gibbs shook his head with a smile. “Rather have backup and not need it than need it and not have it,” he explained, watching the paramedics strap the dazed man onto a stretcher, restraints in place in case he managed to overcome the mild sedative they'd given him. “Bethesda,” Gibbs told them. “Didn't have id on him, but our perp was raving about him serving in his unit.”

People began to mill around and talk freely once the stretcher rolled through the gym doors. Abby heard a rush of chatter about what had just happened, but couldn't make out clear sentences in the tumult. Regardless, the tone of it all seemed more relief than anger or fear. 

“Are we all clear?” Starks asked Gibbs, anxiously watching the other teachers and staff trying to handle parents' questions. “Perfectly safe?”

“Perfectly safe?” Gibbs echoed. He exhaled, covering up what Abby knew was a barely controlled snort. “Don't mean to scare you, but I don't know that there's any such thing.” He smiled, diffusing his gloomy words. “Fine to continue if that's what you mean. Or send everyone home. You've still got what...two more days of school, right? No reason to close and keep the kids home. Sure the parents would appreciate it.”

Starks nodded and walked away, heading for a group of adults huddled in front of the stage.

“Rough day?” Abby asked, spying Tony re-tucking in his rumpled shirt. 

Tony shrugged. “Not too bad,” he replied, frowning at a streak of blood on one cuff. “It's over. Looking forward to my date tonight with a six pack and some delivery.”

“Anything I can help you with here?” Abby asked, looking back at Gibbs with her question. “I mean, I'm not saying you're not welcome or trying to push you out the door or anything, and it's not like I know more than a few people here.” She stopped, realizing that the rambling was entirely unnecessary. She had no reproach to fear from the team as they were practically family, and in any case they knew she would help them out with whatever they needed.

“Sorry to intrude,” Starks said, not sounding remotely so. “We only have three performances left, if you include the finale, so we're going to keep on.” He spread his arms wide in a welcome gesture. “I know that you've probably got paperwork to complete, but some of the parents were wondering if you'd like to stay. All four of you. We've got you to thank for the show being able to go on. It's not much in the way of thanks, but...”

Starks's helpless shrug struck Abby as excessively obsequious, trying to please Gibbs too much, but she discarded that thought. It was probably nothing more than residual nerves making themselves known in his tone and posture. 

A flicker of a gleam lit up Tony's eyes at the perfect excuse for postponing paperwork, falling in short order as a frown took hold. 

McGee tilted his head, considering the idea with some degree of genuine interest. 

“Well,” Gibbs said, drawing the single word out as he searched for a response. To someone familiar with his body language he looked as puzzled by Starks as Abby felt. So she wasn't the only one who found his behavior odd, even considering the circumstances.

“I'm staying,” Abby supplied. “For what it's worth. I mean, I'm the only one who came here on purpose tonight.”

Starks looked at Gibbs in silent expectation.

“I guess it wouldn't hurt,” Gibbs replied with a cheery smile for Starks's benefit. “No fuss though.”

“Of course,” Starks replied. He gestured down to the first row of seats where a few chairs had suddenly made themselves available. “Right this way then.”

Abby looked back to where she had been sitting, feeling a twinge of guilt for abandoning Erin, but Erin's nod of understanding assuaged it. At least she thought it was a nod of understanding. It was hard to tell from halfway across a gym where many people were still buzzing with adrenaline. 

“How did you let him talk you into this?” Tony whispered to Gibbs, smiling in return at the thanks that were offered their way.

“50-50 decision,” Gibbs replied, his voice barely audible as Starks left them at their seats. “Can't disappoint the kids after all.”

“But—” Tony started to protest, but cut himself off. Whatever Gibbs's reasons were, that was as much explanation as he was likely to get.

“And the Director has been talking about promoting and improving public relations,” McGee added, leaning from his aisle seat.

Gibbs and Tony's heads both turned to look at McGee in confusion. 

“Does no one read the emails?” McGee asked, equally puzzled. “Read them all the way through?”

Their blank looks told him everything.

“I don't know why I'm surprised,” he grumbled, settling back into his seat.

The man sitting next to Gibbs opened his mouth to start a conversation but was stopped by Starks's voice one more emanating from the speakers.

“Hello!” he called, waving out at the audience. “I had the chance to speak to several of you, teachers, staff, families, and students alike, and you all wanted to continue with the last few items on the program if possible. The NCIS agents assured me that it was perfectly safe to continue and, I'm sure all of our students will rejoice to hear it, to hold our last two days of school before vacation as scheduled.”

Tony leaned across Abby to whisper to Gibbs, “'Perfectly safe'? What's this guy smoking?”

“Careful Tony,” McGee joked from Tony's other side. “Don't want him to hear you and send you to the principal's office, though I'm sure you'd feel right at home.”

“Very funny,” Tony replied, his face scrunched up like he wanted to stick his tongue out at McGee, but was reluctant with children around. 

When Abby turned her focus back to the stage Starks had gone and a small group of students was assembling. The program continued without a hitch, the students jumping into their planned skit without even a trace of stage fright nerves. Abby watched the team's reaction almost as much as she watched the performance itself, smiling when it coaxed genuine laughter out of all three of them. They certainly wouldn't have envisioned their night looking anything like this, but there was something delightfully ordinary in sitting in a middle school gymnasium and enjoying a performance together.

“Everyone in this production has one final piece to present to you all,” Starks said, taking the microphone as the stage filled with students and staff. “And I know that they've asked not to be fussed over unduly, but it wouldn't be right if we didn't acknowledge them in some way. If the NCIS agents that saved the day tonight could please make their way up onto the stage. It's only fair that you share in the celebration with us.”

Abby thought she heard something that sounded suspiciously like “Oh hell no!” from McGee, covered up as he realized that there were children around.

“Come on Miss Sciuto,” James called, darting out to a microphone. 

“Can't disappoint the kids,” Tony said, mocking Gibbs's earlier statement as he and Abby stood up.

Gibbs and McGee were right behind them, also realizing that they couldn't really get out of it despite their reluctance to stand up there on stage. All four of them attempted to stand off to the side, but were dragged out to stand with a group of teachers huddled around one of the microphones.

“I've been told we had nothing to fear from the man who stumbled in here,” Starks told the audience, “But nevertheless we owe a debt to these brave agents.”

The gym broke out into fervent applause, the audience members rising into a standing ovation while the last syllable echoed from the speakers. Abby's smile in reply was restrained. She felt like a bit of a fraud, up there receiving thanks and appreciation for something that she had no hand in. Of course she was a very important part of the team on a day to day basis, but she'd done nothing in this instance but stand there until it was all over.

Gibbs cocked his head at her as he took in her restrained expression. He ducked behind the man next to him and leaned over to her, putting one hand on her shoulder. “Forget about it,” he whispered in her ear, correctly guessing her mood. “Think of it as thanks for all the work you do that never gets acknowledged. Nobody's keeping score and there are no individual wins, but you and I both know that you do not get nearly enough appreciation for what you put in.”

Abby glanced down at her shoes, hiding her blush and wide grin. “Thanks Gibbs,” she replied, turning her face back up to look at him once she'd felt presentable. The comforting feeling of his hand on her shoulder lingered just a moment more and Abby found her self leaning into it without a thought. She didn't notice the warmth enough to miss it until Gibbs withdrew his hand. Abby shook herself back to attention, Starks speaking once more.

“Don't worry, you don't have to perform,” Starks said into the microphone, sharing a laugh with a few easy to amuse members of the audience. “Unless you really want to.”

“Well, I don't know” Tony said, slipping into showman's mode with a wink and a smile, “My partner Agent McGee here likes to think that he's a bit of a comedian, but I think we'll let the kids take this one.”

“Oh really?” Starks asked his eyes alight as he heard the first part of Tony's statement. He turned to McGee, thoroughly ignoring the second part. “Have any jokes that you'd like to share?”

“You are so dead,” McGee mouthed to Tony, who cringed at Starks's words. 

“Sorry,” Tony mouthed back, his face scrunched up in apology. “Joking. Didn't think he'd do it.”

Abby expected McGee to wave Starks off, to mutter some excuse, but to her surprise he slid up to the mic, only a hiccup of hesitation in his step. 

“I think I can manage a few brief ones,” McGee told the crowd, imitating Tony's showman's demeanor from earlier. He paused to survey the crowd, turning around to include the group on the stage. “Any of you like art class?” he asked. “Draw? Paint? Photoshop?” His questions were met with a smattering of hoots and cheers. “Alright, so what happened when the ship ran aground carrying red and black paint?”

One solitary groan rang out, someone who'd evidently heard the joke before. 

“Hey, hey now,” McGee admonished, frowning as the jibe got to him. “10,000 people a day hear something for the first time. Today may not be your lucky day but it is for somebody else. So what happened when the ship ran aground carrying red and black paint?” He paused again, grinning in anticipation. “The whole crew was marooned.”

Delighted groans and chuckles rang out in ripples across the gym as people figured out the pun. 

“See, bad puns can be good,” McGee said, bouncing on the balls of his feet as the rush of success flew through him. “So how many of you like comics or superheros?” he asked. “Superman fans?” A smattering of cheers. “Fans of the Avengers?” The shouts were almost deafening. “Yeah I guess the movies helped,” he acknowledged. “Really boosted Iron Man's popularity. Anyhow, what time is it when Batman shows up to your hideout?”

The room was dead silent as no one could figure it out. 

“I'd say it was time to find a new hideout,” McGee suggested.

The groans were louder this time, but the laughter lasted longer at a joke that was so bad it was almost good.

“One last one,” McGee said, rubbing his hands together in excitement. “I promise. Saved the best for last. This one's for all you readers out there, all you people who like learning. Libraries and bookstores are full of amazing information. They're great places to go if you want to pick up a new hobby or improve an old one. Why just the other day I stopped into a Barnes and Noble on my way home from work and bought a book on how to build staircases. It's a step by step guide.”

This time the laughter as they got the joke was genuine, the audience applauding as McGee withdrew back to the rest of the team.

“Way to go, McGee,” Tony said, clapping him on the back. “I'm sorry for accidentally putting you on the spot like that, but I'm kind of glad I did.”

McGee shrugged, the gesture demonstrating a kind of everyday ease with the situation that didn't quite match with the bead of nervous sweat on his brow. “Spending an inordinate amount of time on the internet does have its upsides,” he explained. 

The band broke out into a spirited introduction to what Abby was pretty sure was “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” Pretty sure being that the song didn't usually include a guitar solo anywhere, let alone at the beginning.

Tony was the first of them to join in singing along with the rest of the performers, belting out the words with a silly grin on his face. Abby shook her head in amusement and joined in, signing along with a group of students close to the audience that were singing and signing. Her sign language was a little bit rusty, forcing her to think fast to remember the signs for all of the lyrics. It was nigh impossible to avoid getting swept up in the spirit of the season and the song, though she noticed that Gibbs seemed unusually subdued. He didn't join in on the singing but stood there gazing out at everyone, his face a mask of polite interest for show. Abby shuffled a couple of steps over to nudge him with her shoulder, stopping signing at the arced “C” of Christmas. She looked up at him with concern, still leaning against his side. 

Gibbs's polite smile twitched into a real one for her, the shade of wistfulness disappearing from his eyes. “Merry Christmas, Abs,” he said.

The first thing that Abby noticed after the final note had died down was not the applause or the voices of people trying to get a word in, but rather that Gibbs's shoulder was still leaning against hers. Warmth grew in the pit of her stomach when he didn't step away from her until they had to leave the stage. Maybe this year's weird little Christmas wouldn't be so bad after all.


End file.
